


To Protect

by ChickadeeChickadoo



Series: To End a War [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Azula being halfway decent, Everyone Needs Hugs, Gen, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh (Avatar) loves Tea, Merchant Zuko, NO ONE KNOWS, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Some people get hugs, War sucks, What's even going on, it's fun though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickadeeChickadoo/pseuds/ChickadeeChickadoo
Summary: Zuko tried to protect the 41st division- he failed. He was banished. They died anyway. Now he has a crew. And he'll protect them if it kills him. Or the pirates chasing them.
Relationships: Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: To End a War [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831351
Comments: 835
Kudos: 4071
Collections: A:tla, AtLA <25k fics to read, My Favorite Atla Fics, Quality Fics, The Best of Avatar the Last Airbender, The Best of Zuko, The Last Rec List, Zuko and The Water Tribe, avatar tingz, firelord zuko fics where he's like nice to people





	1. What is in a name anyways?

**Author's Note:**

> So- Just for the whole time frame thing- this is set one year before Aang wakes up.  
> Enjoy if you feel so inclined.

Chapter One

Zuko was angry. Angry at his father, angry at his uncle, angry at his crew, but mostly… he was angry at himself. 

His father wouldn’t have had to burn and banish him if he’d just been better. His uncle wouldn’t have had to follow him into exile if he’d just kept quiet. And his crew wouldn’t be in this much trouble if Zuko hadn’t let Zhao know how much he hated him, and then let his crew get drunk in Zhao‘s port. 

Zhao had seen Zuko’s crew and decided to talk to them. Akimo had decided- for some unknown reason- that getting roaring drunk, insulting Zhao, and then assaulting Zhao was a good idea. 

Zhao had gotten out without much more than a scratch- but the fight had still happened. And attacking a superior officer- even one not in your direct line of command- was a punishable offense. 

Zhao was going to kill Akimo. He would say it was an accident. All whippings were attended by a doctor, who told the guard when to stop to preserve the life of the condemned. If Zhao bribed or threatened the doctor, he could very easily get away with killing one of Zuko’s men. 

Zuko sat on his bed in his room, staring at the door. Zhao would be able to get away with killing Akimo, but Zhao wouldn’t get away with killing a prince- even a banished one. 

It would hurt. And Zuko was afraid. 

&&&

It was windy. And far too cold out. The storm clouds had just left, taking all the heat with them, and though Zuko could see the sun the cold and the metal all around made feeling the sun more difficult. 

The whole crew, along with uncle, were assembled. Uncle looked... concerned as he glanced over at the doctor. Perhaps he knew that Zuko was going to do something stupid. Uncle couldn’t stop him though. He wasn’t technically in the chain of command on the ship- he couldn’t stand in for Akimo. Zuko could. 

Zhao read out the charges and Zuko could see him smirk. Akimo stepped forward with a straight face, but Zuko could see his fear. Zuko wondered if he knew that he was going to die.

Zuko found himself stepping forward. “As commanding officer of the Wani I take full responsibility for Akimo’s actions.”

The entire crew seemed frozen, Akimo most of all. Zhao’s eyebrow rose, though he did not seem entirely displeased.

“As commanding officer, you accept his decisions as your own and take his punishment?” Zhao asked.

“Yes.” Zuko spat the word out.

Zuko pointedly did not look Uncle’s direction. Or Akimo’s. Or at the rest of the crew. Or at Zhao. Which just left the sky. It was a pretty sky. He liked the color. And the sun- even if it was cold. 

Zuko found himself shirtless, hands tied above his head to the whipping post. He made sure to breathe evenly. Just breathe. After all, how bad could it be? The first lash struck. 

... it was bad.

&&&

Mushi was a doctor and proud of it. He’d trained for years to help people- only to end up in the military where those he stitched up left to try at dying again and again and again. Eventually, they all seemed to succeed. 

He hated watching whippings- hated that he had the power to stop them but that if he stopped them to soon, he would lose everything- knowing he was choosing himself over whatever poor soul was stuck to the pole. He hated hearing the crack of the whip against flesh, seeing the blood well up to the surface, hearing the men whimper. It was worse when the commander changed him to this role at the last moment- whispering threats of what would happen if Mushi stopped the beating in time to save the man’s life. 

That had been a different condemned though. This boy was only 15. And he was a prince. And his Uncle, the Dragon of the West, was breathing... oddly. That didn’t seem like a good sign. 

The boy could handle more- Mushi knew that- but he thought that perhaps his uncle couldn’t. 

“Stop!” He yelled as the guard threw his arm back once again. “That is enough.” 

Zhao looked like he was on the verge of protesting. Then he finally looked away from the whipping and seemed to catch a glimpse of General Iroh, one of the very few people in this world who could shoot lightning. He remained silent. 

&&&

Akimo helped General Iroh cut Prince Zuko down from the whipping post. They lay him on his stomach in a stretcher the doctor Mushi had fetched for them. Mushi cleaned and bandaged his back, muttering all the while, before nodding that they could go. The prince was barely conscious- probably better that way. He couldn’t yell as loud 

Lieutenant Jee helped Akimo lift the stretcher, Akimo on the back end and Jee on the front as they took off- as smoothly as they could- back towards the ship. 

&&&

General Iroh sat with the Prince. They had taken him to the infirmary and finished off the work Mushi hadn’t done back at the whipping post. There was... a lot of blood there. An uncomfortable amount that left Akimo wondering how much blood he would be spilling if he’d been the one tied to the post. 

The prince was fifteen. He also had a very powerful uncle. Akimo had neither a powerful uncle- nor youth. Most people liked beating children even less than they liked beating regular people.

Still- it bothered him that the prince had taken his place. What in Agni’s name had inspired him to do such a thing?

Akimo turned to Lieutenant Jee. Everyone knew why the prince had been banished- cowardice. Shameful weakness. “How did he get banished for cowardice?” He asked. Jee just shrugged. 

&&&

Akimo knew a painkiller- expensive, addictive if used for extended periods, slightly illegal but incredibly effective. He brought it to General Iroh, who managed to look incredibly pleased and disappointed in Akimo at the same time. 

Akimo suggested that they use it sparingly. The general agreed. 

&&&

Most of the crew was in the mess hall. The food was particularly good this day, it seemed the cook was trying to cheer General Iroh up to. The General looked like he hadn’t slept for the last three days since the prince had taken Akimo’s punishment. Maybe he hadn’t. 

The General took his meal in the infirmary by the prince. The crew took the absence of both princes very well. 

And, suddenly, the mess hall wasn’t so empty of royalty. The banished prince stumbled in, walking with the deliberate step of a man who’d had too much to drink and knew it. 

The mess hall quieted. Lieutenant Jee stood up. “Is there something you need sir?” He asked.

The Prince blinked, hard, before putting a finger to his lips. “Uncle is sleeping,” he whispered loudly, “We need to be quiet.”

He laughed then. Akimo found himself exchanging glances with the men to either side of him. Who’d of guessed the prince would be a happy drunk? And how long could they keep him like this?

The ship’s doctor looked mildly concerned. “What are you doing out of bed?” He asked. 

The prince shrugged. “I was laying there and then it stopped hurting and uncle was asleep, but you were all being so loud. You were going to wake him up- so I snuck away.” He grinned then, and the expression looked… unnatural on the face that was so usually hidden in a scowl. It was also oddly endearing. “I’m really good at sneaking.” He said, in the same mock whisper from before.

Akimo wasn’t sure whether he was good at sneaking or the General was just a very deep sleeper, but either way the prince was here and the General was back at the infirmary. 

The doctor failed to be reassured. “Just because it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean that it’s actually healed.”

The prince opened his mouth to argue, hesitated, then closed it. “That’s true.” He said, and his voice was almost awed. “’Cause my face doesn’t hurt but it also doesn’t look quite   
right.” He nodded. “You’re… super… super smart.” He stumbled slightly to the right. 

The doctor looked torn between grinning and wincing. Akimo was intrigued. Apparently, it took getting the kid drunk to give them a compliment. Well, the kid wasn’t drunk, just drugged, but that didn’t change much. 

The prince was weaving slightly, back and forth, in the doorway and Akimo felt a spike of concern. If he fell- even if the painkiller was good enough to keep him from feeling it now, he’d feel it later. 

“Why don’t we get you back to the infirmary,” the doctor said, standing, echoing Akimo’s thoughts. 

The prince cocked his head to the side. “I just left the infirmary. Why would I want to go back?”

And he’s back. Akimo thought, sighing to himself. Being drugged couldn’t completely change a person’s personality. 

The doctor sighed. “If you fall down, even if it doesn’t hurt now, it’ll hurt later.”

The prince opened his mouth wide, but he didn’t yell, instead he appeared to consider the doctor’s words. “Could I just sit down here then?” he asked, waving vaguely at the room around him.

The doctor hesitated, and Akimo wished that he’d say no. He didn’t though. He just helped the prince over to a table. The prince didn’t sit down. “Can I… get some food first?” he asked, “It smells… super good.”

The cook couldn’t have been more surprised is the Avatar showed up. The prince had done nothing but complain about the food since he’d taken command. 

The doctor hesitated for a moment. “Of course.”

The prince stumbled over to the plates and served himself a generous portion before making his shaky way across the room and sitting down. The fact that he hadn’t spilled all of it was a miracle. 

He started eating and the crew began talking again. Akimo let himself drift back into the conversation until he could almost ignore the slightly hunched figure who’d taken his punishment for him.


	2. The one after the one that was first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen- people feel feelings- life exists

This food was really… really… very good. Mother would want him to compliment the cook. Probably. But Father would say it was the cook’s job to make good food so there was no reason to flatter them.

Azula would burn it and demand a new bowl just because she could.

Zuko finished the food but was too tired to get up again. It was just so much effort. Maybe he could just fall asleep in here. That would be good right? Probably not- Uncle would get worried if Zuko wasn’t back before he woke up.

Disappearing would make Uncle sad. Probably. Uncle did seem to like him, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone with him into banishment.

Zuko forced himself to his feet and the room seemed to fuzz. His back was starting to hurt again to. He liked it a lot better when it didn’t hurt.

He needed… needed to get to the door. Probably. Everything was so grey in here. Except the people. They were red. Except for the faces. They were skin colored. But if the red fires got to their faces then their faces would be as red as the rest of them. It would hurt but they would be red, they’d have a sign like the fire nation insignia branded to them forever. But branding a person wasn’t a nice thing to do. Because it burned and burned and burned and kept burning even when the fire was gone.

He finally found the door and started to walk towards it. Just one step at a time. He could make it back to the infirmary and sneak into bed before Uncle figured out he’d been gone. But when Zuko pressed his foot to the floor the floor didn’t seem to want to stay in place. It started moving towards him. Very fast.

It wouldn’t burn though, it wasn’t red. Or orange. Or yellow. But neither were hands and they could be red just like that.

Someone caught him. Zuko wasn’t sure who, but they were careful to catch him by the stomach and leave his back alone. They lifted one of his arms over their shoulders and the floor stopped moving. “That’s nice,” he found himself saying, “You made the floor stop moving. It was going to hit me. And then it might’ve started on fire. Because you can never really know when things are going to start on fire. It’s grey so not very red. But hands and faces aren’t supposed to be red either. But sometimes they are.” He nodded.

The person who’d caught him said something, but he couldn’t catch what it was. Zuko tried to twist to look at them but that made his back hurt. Why did his back hurt? That didn’t make any sense.

“Do you know why my back hurts?” he whispered to the person beside him. He had to say it quiet otherwise Azula might hear. Then she’d make fun of him for forgetting.

This time the voice seemed to come through. “You are really out of it aren’t you.” The voice sounded amused and almost apologetic.

Zuko nodded though. He was out of a lot of things.

“How did you ever manage to get banished for cowardice?” the man muttered.

Zuko tried to stop moving so he could think, but the other person kept walking. Zuko stumbled, but not much more than he’d already been doing. Zuko sighed. “Everyone was being stupid. They just wanted to… well maybe they didn’t want to be stupid but they were anyways. And then I didn’t fight and he kept saying to fight. But I didn’t. Not fighting hurts. And I got banished. And he sends me letters sometimes, casualty reports for the 41st. There’s only five left now. The rest of them are all dead. All dead. There were lots and lots of them who weren’t dead at first and now they are dead.”

Zuko stopped talking after that. He was having to focus too much on putting one foot in front of the other. He was leaning on the other person way too much. But he needed to stand up and fight because kneeling down didn’t work. And then he was at the door to the infirmary and he had to be quiet or he’d wake uncle up. He made his arm fall from the other man’s shoulders and slid the door open. You had to go real slow the first inch, then wrench it the rest of the way or it would creak. He stepped lightly across the room. Uncle was still asleep- that was good. Zuko lay down on the bed- not his back- his back hurt- his stomach was safe though.

But his face would hurt if he put the burning side down because it was still delicate- no, too ugly to be delicate- fragile, it was fragile, and it would scar bad but even worse if he did stuff to it.

Zuko closed his eyes and slept.

&&&

Akimo closed the infirmary door as softly as he could behind him. Apparently, the prince hadn’t been lying about being good at sneaking, even when he was half dead to the world.

That door trick had been… interesting. Akimo would have to try it out sometime.

&&&

The general left the sickroom a couple hours later, still looking tired but much better than he had before his nap. None of the crew saw fit to tell him about what Zuko had done while he was sleeping.

&&&

Zuko was sleeping again, lying on his stomach with the scarred side of his face up. “How’s he doing?” Akimo asked.

The general looked at him, seeming almost surprised. “Much better.” He said, smiling. “Thank you again for the painkiller. It was very helpful.”

Akimo nodded his acknowledgement. Then he waited, silent. The general was also silent and the silence stretched taught. “Why’d he do it?” Akimo whispered.

The general had a very good innocent face. And a very good fat-friendly-old-man face. Right now, his face had the gentle look he reserved for when Zuko did something he was proud of. “Zhao hates Zuko and enjoys hurting people. When you attacked Zhao, you gave him an opportunity. Zuko has tried to save people in the past, and they died anyways. It hurt him. Zhao was going to kill you. He’d bribed the doctor on duty to let the lashing kill you, then make your death seem an accident. I bribed the doctor better to let you live. Unfortunately, Zhao found out and found, switched doctors and threatened Mushi. Mushi would have let you die. I’m not sure how Zuko knew that it was the wrong doctor… but he knew that Zhao couldn’t kill him in a whipping “accident” like he could a regular soldier. So, he volunteered.”

_…he sends me letters sometimes, casualty reports... There’s only five left now. The rest of them are all dead. All dead. There were lots and lots of them who weren’t dead at first and now they are dead._

“The letters he gets,” Akimo said softly, “They aren’t letters at all. They’re casualty reports.”

The old general sighed softly, rubbing his forehead. “Yes,” he said, “For the 41st division.”

Akimo could tell there was more to this story, much more. Zuko’s answers hadn’t been particularly coherent, and the general wasn’t much better. He felt it best not to pry. Perhaps someone else in the crew knew more.

So Akimo nodded to the general and backed out of the infirmary. He had work to do.


	3. This one is after the second and before the fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no lightning- but there could be

Zuko woke up. The entire infirmary smelled like tea. Zuko almost smiled. Tea smelled like Uncle and Uncle… was Uncle.

His back hurt a lot. Zuko almost tried to fall back asleep. But he’d have to face Uncle sometime. Maybe it would go better when he was injured. Or maybe it would be better when he was healed, and Uncle wouldn’t be constantly reminded that Zuko had done something stupid.

Zuko pushed his arms under himself and rose slowly, maneuvering himself into a sitting position. Uncle was facing away from him, humming softly as he prepared the tea.

Uncle turned and smiled at Zuko, some of the worry fading from his eyes before gently setting his teacup back on the table. He sat down on the chair beside Zuko’s bed before, very gently, resting his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko nearly flinched away, but he stopped himself. It was just Uncle and Uncle never set his hands on fire.

“You did a good thing nephew,” Uncle said, “I’m very proud of you.”

Zuko blinked. The last time he’d tried to save someone and gotten hurt he’d ended up banished. Now Uncle said he was… proud?

Well… he hadn’t really disrespected anyone this time. And he wasn’t supposed to fight this time. Not fighting hadn’t started hurting any less. But the waking up was better this time. Zuko didn’t suppress his smile this time.

&&&

Akimo felt like pulling out his hair. How had everyone on this ship traveled with Prince Zuko and General Iroh for two years without figuring out anything beyond the facts that the prince was ill tempered, had gotten a scar somewhere, had been banished when he was thirteen, had a sister, and had to find the Avatar before he could go home?

Everyone seemed to have a slightly different theory about the scar, ranging from training accidents to assassination attempts. The story of what cowardly thing the prince had done was also drastically different depending on the source. Some had him leaving his mother to assassins, though anyone who knew anything knew that Lady Ursa had never become Fire Lady Ursa. She’d been dead for years. Some stories had him pledging loyalty to Hakanda of the Southern Water Tribe in exchange for his life. Others… well they just got stranger the more he asked.

The sister was either a goddess or the face stealer, also depending on who you asked. The Avatar didn’t seem to matter as much, except for the fact that no one had seen the most dangerous person in the world for nearly a hundred years and a thirteen-year-old had been tasked with bringing him home alive.

A thirteen-year-old on a ship that may have been mostly made of rust. With a crew made up of the cast offs no one else wanted. With the only advisor being an uncle, admittedly a very good uncle, who hadn’t had to come. Who’d apparently been encouraged to stay away. Who’d come anyways.

Everyone knew that General Iroh loved his nephew, no one was sure why. All the prince seemed to do was yell at the poor man.

And yet… when he’d been sick, he’d walked all the way to the mess hall to tell everyone to be quiet so his uncle could get some sleep.

And he’d taken Akimo’s punishment and saved his life.

Sometimes Akimo didn’t understand the world he lived in.

&&&

The prince was back. He walked slower, stiffer, and didn’t yell as much, but that would only last so long as his wounds did. He was always nicer when he was in pain.

But the crew knew his weakness now. They’d been spiking his drinks for the last hour or so. The general was sleeping, the prince was looking over maps.

The prince really did mellow down a lot when they got him drunk. The prince had been staring at the last map for a very long time. Akimo was pretty sure it was healthy.

The prince suddenly started his hand on fire. Akimo started backwards, nearly knocking his chair over. The fire wreathed the Prince’s hand and he turned it slowly. He snuffed it out, then brought it back. Fire, out, fire, out. It was a little disturbing, especially since Akimo was the only one in the map room with the Prince, and he wasn’t a fire bender.

“Sir?” Akimo asked.

The prince looked up, seeming surprised to see Akimo there. “Do you have any children Akimo?” the prince asked.

Akimo wasn’t sure if he was more surprised that the prince knew his name or concerned that he’d used it. How much had the prince drank by now? “No sir,” Akimo said, slowly,

“Why do you ask?”

The prince just shrugged. “My mom always said to be nice to people. But I’m pretty sure she killed Fire Lord Azulon.”

Akimo choked on the nonexistent liquid he wasn’t drinking. “What?” he asked. I really shouldn’t have asked that, he thought a moment later, really, really shouldn’t have asked that. This is not something I want to know- well, it’s not something that it’s safe for me to know anyways.

The prince didn’t hear his inward struggle. He turned bleary eyes on Akimo, how much has he drank now? “Well… Lu Ten died and Father went in to ask Grandfather Azulon to make him heir since he had more heirs than Uncle. Then Azula came in and said Dad was gonna kill me ‘cause grandfather had said he needed to know the pain of losing an heir. Then I fell asleep and Mom came in saying everything she’d done she’d done for me and to never forget who I am. The next day Grandfather was dead, Dad was Fire Lord, and Mom was gone.”

Akimo carefully slid the prince’s teacup away from him. This was more than he’d figured out about the prince in all the days since he’d started gathering information. It was also the kind of thing that would get him killed if other people figured out that he knew.

“You know you can’t tell anyone about this right?” Akimo said, carefully.

The Prince nodded. “Uncle might leave if he knew,” he said, “and if I tell other people they might tell him.”

Of course that’s what he’s worried about, Akimo thought, careful not to let the exasperation show up on his face.

“No- well, that’s really not what you should be worried about.” The Prince’s gaze had started wandering away from Akimo but with what seemed a supreme effort of will he forced himself to look back.

“You should be worried about the Fire Lord killing everyone you tell.” And then killing you to for good measure.

The boy looked ready to protest, then he hesitated. He ran a hand around the edge of his scar, slowly. “Yes,” the boy finally said, “He would do that.”

Akimo nodded, relieved.

The boy was still tracing the scar though. “My father has almost killed me twice,” The Prince said. He wasn’t talking to Akimo anymore. “I sometimes wonder why it is that I am so desperate to get home. I love him and I know he loves me, but every time I fail I make it so he has to punish me. And I fail- I fail a lot.”  
Akimo did not curse. Though the boy’s vocabulary was already corrupted, the general frowned on cursing around him.

Akimo thought he knew how Zuko had gotten that scar- and it wasn’t assassins.

“Come on,” Akimo said, standing and holding a hand out to Zuko, “I think it’s late and you can look over those maps tomorrow. For now- you should get some sleep.”  
Zuko nodded tiredly and let Akimo pull him to his feet and lead him to his bed. Akimo closed the door behind the prince, then went back to the map room and finished off the prince’s tea. Then he ordered another cup.

&&&

Zuko woke up at dawn and everything hurt. His back hurt- but that was normal. The problem was his head. It was pounding and the light was stabbing at his eyes. His mouth tasted all wrong.

Zuko got up despite all the pounding and stumbled his way over to his Uncle’s room. Uncle was already awake when he got there, which was good.

“Are you quite alright nephew?” Uncle asked.

Zuko would have shook his head no, but that sounded like it would hurt. “My head really hurts. And the light is stabbing me. And my mouth tastes funny.”

Uncle blinked at him for a moment. “Whatever were you doing last night?”

Zuko blinked back. He would have yelled that he had just been looking over stupid maps, but that seemed like it would hurt to.

“I was just looking over the maps. And they kept bringing me more tea.”

“Hmm.” Uncle said. “Well, I have some tea that should help with the headache, though it won’t taste very good. You just stay in my room for the morning, it’s quieter in there than almost any other part of the ship.”

Zuko almost nodded, but that seemed like a bad idea. Instead he just said “Okay.”

&&&

Iroh walked into the mess hall smiling, with his hands in his sleeves. He walked into the kitchens, still smiling. He walked to the cupboard the crew hid the liquor in, still smiling. He took it all and brought it to the deck where he proceeded to smash every bottle. He never stopped smiling, but the smile became progressively more relaxed after all the bottles were gone.

Iroh then informed the thoroughly incensed crew that his nephew had found their stash and imbibed heavily while injured, which could affect his recovery. This was obviously unacceptable behavior for the boy, so he’d removed the temptation. The crew looked away from the smashed bottles littering their deck to the General, one of the few people in this world who could shoot lightning. Like Zhao before them, they remained silent.


	4. Chap 4 like cap 4 but different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is depressed. Everyone else is mildy horrified.

They had been dead for nearly four weeks when Zuko got the letter. It was a simple thing. He was pretty sure Azula had written it herself. It was almost flattering.

_Remember the last thing dad said to you? If he were writing this, I imagine he’d say something like “Let this be a lesson to you.”_ -Azula.

The casualty reports had come next, all five of them. The last members of the 41st division. They had told him… one of the terms of his banishment had been that when he returned home with the Avatar any and all remaining members of the 41st would be removed from active duty. He’d been running as fast as he could, trying to find and capture the avatar before the 41st went to battle. Every time he’d gotten another casualty report from them he’d felt… like he’d failed. Like he needed to try harder- like if he’d been trying just a little harder from the start he would have been able to save them.

Now they were all gone. He’d failed all of them. Zuko felt curiously numb, like some God had decided he really couldn’t handle this right now and spooned his feelings out of him.

Zuko lay the letter, and the reports, on the table in the mess hall where he’d read them. He usually read the reports in his room but… he’d seem actual handwriting on it. He’d thought- well, it didn’t matter what he’d thought, he hadn’t waited. Zuko gently smoothed the sheets out on the table. Then he turned- walking away. There really weren’t many places to go on this ship- but that didn’t matter much. He just needed to be… away.

&&&

Iroh saw the curiosity and barely repressed excitement cross his nephew’s face as he opened his letter, then the pain, then… nothing.

He watched Zuko smooth the letter against the table and walk away.

Iroh winced as he read Azula’s words. That child could truly be cruel. Leaving the notes and the reports on the table, he followed his nephew. Iroh would be there to offer Zuko comfort, even if Zuko wouldn’t accept it. What else were Uncle’s for?

&&&

Akimo knew that reading other people’s mail was probably wrong. But for both princes to have such a strong reaction to something so… short, and then just leave it on the table begging to be read…

He read it, and the casualty reports. He didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he felt himself bristle on Zuko’s behalf. He wondered, briefly, what the last words the Fire Lord had said to Zuko were. He wondered why the 41st division meant something to the prince. He wondered why they sent Zuko the casualty reports.

_…There’s only five left now…_

There had been five left. Now he had five casualty reports in his hand. So these people- who Zuko cared about- were all dead. And it was… a lesson?

The doctor walked over to Akimo, silently holding a hand out for the letter. Akimo passed it over, along with the reports. They went from hand to hand, every man reading them in silence before passing them on. Lieutenant Jee was last.

For a moment, everyone was silent. Finally, Lieutenant Jee spoke. “What does that even mean?” he asked.

One by one, all of them turned towards Akimo. Akimo felt a moment of discomfort at their scrutiny. “I don’t know the full story-“he said, if there was ever an understatement that would be it, “but I can tell you what I do know.” And he did. Except for the part about the Fire Lord Ozai having his wife murder Fire Lord Azulon in exchange for her son’s life. That knowledge really could get them all killed.

&&&

Zuko was leaning against the railing. Iroh knew that there was only one other person on deck, too far away to hear them. Iroh lay his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “How do you feel?” he asked.

He wasn’t quite sure if Zuko had heard him, but Zuko didn’t shrug off his hand, so that was some progress. Zuko took a long breath before releasing it, still looking out to sea.

“I failed,” Zuko said softly. “If I’d managed to capture the Avatar anytime in the last two years I could have saved some of them- but I didn’t. And now they’re dead. All of them. Those that survived that first- if I’d captured the Avatar they would have been removed from active duty.”

Iroh let out a long breath. “Did Ozai promise to keep them off of active duty for the rest of the war?” he asked.

Zuko hesitated before shaking his head.

“If those men hadn’t been there, do you think Ozai would have stopped? Or would he have just sent another group of soldiers in?” Even if your soldiers hadn’t died, someone would have. The General who fights for the lives of his men will always lose- because no matter the engagement some of them will always die.

Zuko hesitated again. “Someone else would have died.” He said.

Iroh nodded. “It is good to care,” he said, “It is also good to recognize that this is not your fault. There is a war going on. People will die.”

Zuko took a shuddering breath. “But- isn’t there a way for less people to die? They didn’t have to be sacrificed- slaughtered. There are other ways to fight…”

Iroh could almost hear the aren’t there? At the end of that sentence. “Yes,” Iroh said, “There are other ways to fight, ways that would lead to less death but a slower expansion of the empire. That is something Ozai doesn’t care about- he wants his empire to grow. He does not stop to consider the cost of getting what he wants.” And he doesn’t regret anything.

Zuko finally turned, looking away from the ocean and towards Iroh. His eyes were watery with tears he wouldn’t let himself cry. “I- I just wanted- I thought I could save them. I just wanted to save some of them.” His voice choked off at the end. At times like this Iroh was forcibly reminded that his nephew was a very lost fifteen-year old boy.

Iroh wrapped his arms around his nephew. Zuko stood stiffly for a moment before relaxing into Iroh’s embrace. “You did the best you could nephew,” Iroh said. “The best anyone could have. This is not your fault.”

Iroh was fairly certain that Zuko didn’t believe him. But Zuko didn’t back away either. He didn’t hug back, but he let Iroh support him. It was progress.

&&&

Zuko went to bed early that night. The crew was prepared. They had taken all the tea supplies to the mess hall. The General would come for them. And then they could ask the General what in Agni’s name as going on.

&&&

Akimo waited along with most of the crew, which was everyone who wasn’t needed to run the ship for the next hour or so, for General Iroh. He was not long in coming. He didn’t seem surprised to see them gathered there. Instead he simply took a seat at the head of the table.

“What would you like to know?” he asked, calmly.

“What is the 41st division?” Akimo asked. He didn’t know for sure, but it seemed like the 41st division, the scar, and the banishment all went together somehow. And asking why the Fire Lord had decided to melt off half of a thirteen-year old’s face seemed to lack tact.

The General sighed, softly. “This story is not mine- but perhaps it is better that I tell you. Zuko most certainly would not.”

He told them about the 41st, the general, the Fire Lord, and Zuko’s banishment. For several long moments after he finished speaking the crew was silent. _Remember the last thing dad said to you? If he were writing this, I imagine he’d say something like “Let this be a lesson to you.”_ The last thing Fire Lord Ozai had said to his son was “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.”

“Your family is really messed up General Iroh. Sir.” Akimo said.

Iroh’s lips quirked up into something almost resembling a smile. “You don’t know the half of it.” Akimo believed him.

&&&

When Zuko woke up the next morning he still felt awful. But also- somehow- at little bit better. He knocked on Uncle’s door. Uncle was making tea- which shouldn’t have been surprising, he was always making tea. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Zuko began.

Uncle didn’t turn, but Zuko knew he had his attention. “If I’d captured the Avatar and come home I would have been able to save the men in the 41st, but I doubt the generals would have abandoned the plan entirely. They would just have sent someone else.”

Zuko didn’t say anything else for a moment. Thoughts were roiling around in his head, a mess of squid-eels he couldn’t even begin to untangle. He’d wanted to get back to the Fire nation so he could be home. So he could save the 41st. So he could earn his father’s love. So he could regain his honor. He still wanted to go home- he still wanted to be able to protect people. But if he went back- even with the Avatar… that didn’t mean people would listen to him. Would he make it back to the Fire Nation just to get kicked back out again for speaking out in another war meeting? Was it right to remain silent? To watch people be sacrificed and do nothing?

For the time being, he shoved those thoughts, those doubts, to the back of his mind. “Uncle,” he said, “I couldn’t protect the 41st. I didn’t have power there. But I do have power here. I already saved Akimo- I can keep the rest of them alive. I’m going to protect them- and I’m going to get them home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost put in a scene with Azula. I thought about it. Basically, Ozai wasn’t going to tell Zuko the rest of the 41st was dead. Ozai was going to let him keep trying to save people who were already dead. Azula was… almost kind in telling him sooner. I didn’t put it in ‘cause it didn’t fit with the flow of the story- but, anyways- make of that what you will.


	5. Chapitar Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is lightning and it makes me way too happy

Zuko had been doing- better- in the two months since his conversation with Uncle. He was protecting his crew now, even, sometimes, from himself. Uncle had told him that leaders command their men when they need something done or done differently, and then let the men do their jobs. Delegation is a thing. Compliments exist.  
Zuko was trying.

Now though, now he just felt like he wanted to cry. How was Zhao in port again? Why was Zhao in port again? Why did the universe hate him?

He needed supplies- his crew- his uncle- all needed food to survive. Water, hay for the Komodo-Rhinos. Money to pay his men. The hundreds of little things they needed to keep their tiny rust bucket of a ship moving.

But, apparently, everything Zuko needed couldn’t be spared for at least another week, maybe two. Never mind the fact that they really couldn’t stay that long- he needed to get them home- which meant he still needed to find the Avatar.

And now Zhao had invited them for tea. And Uncle had accepted before Zuko could stop him.

Zhao was talking. He really liked talking. “… one of the crew members on your ship- I believe her name was Rai- requested a transfer. I have granted it.”

Zuko glanced at Uncle who didn’t look nearly as confused as Zuko did. “Who?” Zuko asked. Zhao smirked and Zuko immediately wanted to stuff the words back into his mouth.

Zhao tapped a finger against his chin. “Here,” he said, standing and rustling something around on his desk. He handed a paper over to Zuko. It was a transfer request, one from nearly two years ago. It wasn’t a woman. And certainly not one named Rai. It was Akimo.

Zuko felt like banging his head against the desk. That man just wouldn’t let himself be kept safe. Akimo’s past self was trying to kill him.

“He will be transferred to my personal ship,” Zhao said, a smile tugging on his lips.

Zuko saw red. Red flames burning through Akimo, red blood welling up, red flags raised in a tribute for the fallen. Zhao was still trying to kill Akimo. He had not forgiven- and he had not forgotten.

Zuko found an odd almost-calm descending on him. He had promised to protect his crew- and he would. “Agni Kai,” he said, “Dusk. I win- you leave my crew alone. And I get my supplies tomorrow.”

Zhao raised an eyebrow. “As my prince commands,” he said. He sounded entirely too pleased, like this was what he’d wanted all along. He glanced over to the wall of the tent, then sighed. “As much as I enjoyed the company, I’m afraid I have much to do before the duel.” He bowed to them, more a parody than a real bow, before sweeping out of the tent.

Uncle looked worried. “Are you sure nephew?” he asked, Zuko could hear the unspoken ending, don’t you remember what happened last time?

Zuko breathed in, deeply. Father wasn’t here, he wasn’t anywhere near here. He would face Zhao. He would win. He would protect his crew. Zuko breathed out, slowly. “I’m certain Uncle.”

Uncle nodded.

\---…---

Dusk arrived. Zuko was so very glad they didn’t have an official Agni Kai ring here. This way he could watch Zhao approach. He could verify that it was actually Zhao he was fighting before he got in the ring.

Zhao came. Zuko very nearly breathed out a sigh of relief before he realized that would mean he was happy to see Zhao.  
It was better than father though.

“Remember your basics Prince Zuko,” Uncle said, and Zuko nodded.

He knelt, his back to Zhao, until it came time to fight.

\---…---

The fight was over quickly. Iroh wasn’t surprised, Zhao was good but he lacked the discipline of a toddler.

At the end, Zhao lay flat on his back, Zuko standing above him, one arm back. It would be very, very easy for Zuko to end Zhao permanently.

“Stay away from my crew,” Zuko hissed.

“Or what?” Zhao asked. “Your father will demote me? I don’t think he’d care if I’d killed you today. He would be glad to have you gone. If he truly wanted you back he’d have let you come home years ago.”

All true-unfortunately. All from the wrong source as well. Zuko would need more time to figure that out.

Iroh waited for the rage- the denials- but they never came. A strange… almost calm… settled over Zuko’s face.

His hands formed a series of circular motions, so very familiar to Iroh, and something he had only taught to Zuko conceptually to stop his nephew’s sulking after Azula had mastered it.

It required separation- and calm- and Zuko was not- and had never been a calm…

Lightning sprang from Zuko’s hands, crackling across the rapidly darkening sky.

Iroh blinked.

Zhao, faced with one of the few people on this world who could bend lightning, decided that now was a good time to remain silent.

\---…---

Akimo whistled. “Remind me to not get on his bad side,” he muttered.

Jee laughed. There was more than a tinge of anxiety in his laugh. Lightning? At fifteen?

\---…---

Zuko was about as surprised as the rest of them. He… that definitely should have blown up in his face. But it hadn’t.

In a moment of crystalized clarity- he’d realized that right now- right here- his father didn’t matter. His crew did. They needed him. And he’d…responded. He resisted the urge to grin. That had… actually worked.

In an almost daze he turned his back on Zhao, and walked away, resisting the urge to shake away the tingling from his fingertips.

Zhao was embarrassed, angry, ashamed- but he was not a complete fool. He remained on the ground until Zuko was long gone.


	6. The chapter that is evil because apparently six is and evil number or something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakoda shows up. No one is happy.

This was not supposed to happen. Technically speaking, Zuko’s ship wasn’t even involved in the war effort. It wasn’t necessarily a civilian vessel, but it definitely wasn’t a war ship.

The circling Water-Tribe ships didn’t seem to care.

There were… a lot of them. And even with two lightning wielders and numerous other fire-benders on the ship those weren’t good odds.

Some of them would die, even if they pushed the enemy back. Zuko wasn’t here to let his men die, he was here to protect them and get them all home _alive._

Zuko hesitated for a moment, “Do you think the Water Tribe would recognize the flag for a parley?” _Because they don’t seem to recognize the flag marking this vessel as a noncombatant._

Uncle hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “They might at that.” He said.

\---…---

Finding a lone fire-nation ship with a small crew, even a slightly dilapidated one like this, was a stroke of fortune.

Most of the time they couldn’t afford a full-on confrontation with the fire-nation. Surprise attacks didn’t allow ships to identify themselves as a non-combatants and ask for parley.

Hakoda almost wished he’d let Bato convince him to just sink the ship instead of trying to capture it.

He didn’t allow his frustration to seep through. Instead, he signaled a return sign. They could have their parley- on Hakoda’s ship.

\---…---

Iroh couldn’t quite tell who was more surprised by the fact he had managed to bring a teapot with him over to the Water Tribe ships, Zuko or their Chief. He and Zuko had come alone for the parley. He wasn’t sure if Zuko was intentionally

They’d rowed over in a small boat and climbed the ladder onto the command ship. Iroh smiled, genially and raised his pot. “Would you like some tea?”

The Chief and his second glanced at each other, and in the way of two people who know each other very well a thousand messages pass between their eyes. Finally the Chief nodded. Iroh’s smile widened.

\---…---

There was something wrong with this tea. Zuko wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with the tea- he definitely couldn’t fix it- but it _was_ wrong.

The Water Tribe people seem to like it though, which is probably why Uncle made it.

The Chief didn’t waste time before speaking. “You proposed a parley. Why?”

They decided to let Uncle take the questions. He was better at keeping his temper in check than Zuko was. Zuko wanted his people to be safe, if that meant keeping quiet, he could keep quiet. Even if surrender always hurt worse.

“The Wani is not a military ship, nor are we part of the war effort.” Uncle began, “Attacking our ship would result in lost lives on the part of you and your crew. Attacking us hurts you. If you attack this ship you waste valuable resources and spend priceless lives for nothing.”

They seemed to consider for a moment. One of the men spoke. “Your ship could get us undetected into fire nation waters.”

Zuko felt a prickle of unease at that- people were only that blatantly honest when they knew the truth could never get back at them.

The Chief glared at the man. Zuko felt a moment of sympathetic pain for him.

Uncle winced. “If you want a ship that can be seen in Fire Nation waters without getting your men caught- the Wani is not your ship.”

The Chief raised an eyebrow. Uncle didn’t expand his statement, instead he poured more tea into all the cups, including Zuko’s. Zuko hadn’t drunk any tea past the first sip, there was still something wrong with it.

The silence stretched on. Zuko found himself drinking more of the tea. It was still all wrong.

Finally, the man with the Chief sighed. “Why would this ship be so easily identifiable and why would it be detained in Fire Nation waters?” he asked.

Uncle shrugged. “This ship cannot return to the Fire Nation unless the Avatar is in chains on board. Seeing as the Avatar has not been seen in nearly a hundred years, the likelihood of the Avatar being on board the ship is low. The Wani is the only ship of her style that has not been retired for spare parts. This means that any Fire Nation ship would have right and reason to detain the ship, and if the Avatar is not found, breaking the terms would have unpleasant consequences for all on board.”

Zuko did not like the gleam in Hakoda’s eye. “Any ship would seek to detain it?” he asked.

Uncle’s lips twitched into an almost smile. “Most likely.”

Zuko wondered what he was thinking about.

“They wouldn’t try to sink it though? Simply detain it?”

Uncle looked at the man, the genial mask drawing back. He simply… looked. It was the look that said- _I know exactly what you’re doing and am not impressed by your attempts to be sneaky_. Zuko almost felt bad for the man.

The man, somewhat impressively, did not quail.

Zuko sipped his tea again. And the Hakoda fellow was looking at him now. But Zuko knew it was a very bad idea to talk and say words when people told him to be silent. He absently rubbed at his scar before sipping more tea. He was not going to say anything. He was going to stay silent because old people got offended really easy when you told them their plans were stupid.

The silence continued…. On the other hand these men weren’t fire benders. Weren’t benders at all as far as he could tell. And their plan was stupid.

But the last time he’d spoken- the 41st had _all_ died. He remained silent.

“Your plan has a few flaws.” Uncle finally said.

The Chief hadn’t stopped looking at Zuko, but now he glanced back up at Uncle. He didn’t seem offended. Odd.

“Oh?” Hakoda asked.

“Several members of the crew on this ship embarrassed a commander in the Fire Nation navy who has the Fire Lord’s favor. If this ship was spotted on Fire Nation waters he’d gather everyone he could to surround it, then request to board. If the Avatar was not present then he’d be within his rights to kill or capture any other personnel on board. Your survival would be unlikely.”

The Chief leaned forward. “What would you suggest we do?”

Uncle paused for a moment, seeming to consider before answering. “It would be best if both of us could go our separate ways. We go back to finding the Avatar- you go back to supporting the war effort.”

Zuko couldn’t get past the fact that supporting the war effort, for Hakoda and his men, would mean killing Zuko’s people. He couldn’t speak- couldn’t accuse them of killing his people, even if it was true.

Zuko felt sick. Uncle had been telling the truth, if his crew didn’t die then someone else’s would somewhere else. Saving one group of people didn’t _help_ anything. It saved them, yes. But it killed someone else somewhere else that someone else didn’t want to lose.

Hakoda didn’t lean back. He still had that super intense look on his face. “Why should I believe that there is a Avatar hunting Fire Nation vessel that isn’t directly involved in the war effort somehow?”

Uncle had apparently thought of this. He’d brought the documentation that certified the Wani as a non-military, non-civilian, Avatar-hunting ship.

Hakoda read it. He didn’t seem pleased.

He glanced over at his second. His second shrugged.

Hakoda looked back. “Alright,” he said. “We won’t justify killing non-combatants. We will lead you a neutral port. You will all leave the ship. Then we’ll sink her.”

Zuko felt his stomach drop into his boots. That… that would be bad on _so_ many levels.


	7. The seventh chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are stupid and stupid people do stupid things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I left this blank would it just say notes and then nothing or would it delete itself?

“You can’t do that!” Zuko shouted, standing, “That’s like cutting off a man’s legs and leaving him in the middle of the forest. You can’t just say- oh, look at that, he died. Not our fault though, _we_ didn’t make those woodland creatures eat him. Too bad.”

Zuko realized then that all the warriors around him were pointing their rather pointy weapons at him. The Chief was still sitting but he was definitely gripping something. The second was halfway out of his chair. Zuko felt mildly offended. Did they really think he’d break parley?

Uncle was… pouring more tea. But he was pouring it in such a way that he was in front of Zuko, slightly, and his feet were set, rooted in a way that would make lightning easily accessible. Maybe parleys broke more often than he’d thought.

Zuko blinked, glancing at them. Their intentions were very clear at least. Zuko hesitated for a long moment, then closed his mouth and sat back down. His tea hadn’t even spilled. He picked it back up and sipped some. _Wrong_.

Uncle rested a hand on his shoulder. “You lasted very admirably nephew,” he said softly, and his voice was almost mild. There was a warning in it somewhere, and Zuko wasn’t quite sure who the warning was for.

The Chief looked… well Zuko wasn’t quite sure how he looked. It wasn’t a _nice_ face, but it also wasn’t a _cold_ face.

“How old are you?” The chief asked.

Zuko glanced at Uncle who nodded. “Fifteen.” He said, not soft and not shouting. He wasn’t _sulking_ either.

Hakoda looked at Uncle. “Why is a fifteen-year-old part of the parley?” His voice held the same mild-but-warning tone Uncle’s had.

Zuko felt himself bristling but managed to keep his tongue. Barely.

Uncle smiled, pouring more tea. _How does he keep finding space in the cups?_ “I think you misunderstand the situation. You see, this is Captain Zuko, the commander of the Wani. I am a mere advisor on the ship.”

Zuko was a prince, not a captain, but he did think Uncle was being smart by not telling the Water Tribe that. They’d probably have to attack a prince on principal.

Hakoda looked surprised for the first time since they’d started talking. “You command the vessel?” he asked.

Zuko didn’t yell. He was very calm. “That’s what Uncle just _said_.”

Hakoda sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Fifteen and in command of a war ship.” He muttered.

“The Wani is _not_ a war ship!” Zuko almost-yelled. “She’s a noncombatant.” _So there._

“Well then,” Hakoda said, “If you are _captain_ of this ship why haven’t you been handling the negotiations?”

Zuko looked at him for a moment, then at Uncle. He folded his arms across his chest, but he _wasn’t_ sulking. “Uncle is better at holding his tempter.” _If he even has one anymore._

It’d been _years_ since he’d seen Uncle angry. The last time- that’d been right after the bandages came off for the last time and Zuko had realized his face wouldn’t be getting better. And even then, Uncle hadn’t looked so much angry as grim.

The second in command looked like he was just barely smothering laughter. Zuko glared at him on principle.

Hakoda’s expression still hadn’t shifted. “Well then, Captain Zuko, why would dropping you off at a neutral port be a near death sentence?”

Zuko just kind of stared at him for a moment. “We have an Avatar-hunting salary that we can’t collect if we don’t have our ship. We’re not allowed in the Fire Nation without him and the Earth Kingdom would probably be rather unhappy about us moving there. Neutral ports are just that- ports. Places to pick up and drop off stuff- not places to start up a life. Unless we all become real convincing Earth Kingdom refugees, we have a low likelihood of surviving long. And even if we did manage to become real convincing Earth Kingdom refugees what are we supposed to do? Serve tea? Join the Earth Kingdom army? Or maybe we should sneak into the Fire Nation and reenlist under assumed names?”

That last one wasn’t really an option- the scar made him rather conspicuous- and if Father figured out he was back in the Fire Nation without the Avatar- Father would kill him for real.

Hakoda remained unconvinced. Uncle broke into their staring contest gently. “We cannot allow you to take and sink our ship. My nephew is right- that would likely end in all our deaths. We would like to avoid conflict with you are yours- we wish to preserve the lives of our crew, just as you no doubt wish to preserve yours. Is there no way we could part peaceably? Is there something we could do for you in exchange for your letting us go? Something unrelated to the war effort? We travel great distances in our search for the Avatar.”

The Chief seemed to be considering. “Do you think you can win this fight?” he asked.

Uncle sighed. “Not without significant loss of life on both sides.”

“My goal right now is to keep my crew alive.” Zuko found himself saying. “We would really prefer not to fight.”

Hakoda didn’t seem to believe in their fighting prowess. He glanced at Uncle, at Zuko, then back again.

Hakoda sighed. “We will have an answer for you within the hour. We will tell you our decision then.”

Uncle nodded genially. He smiled, taking the teacups away and tucking the teapot somewhere. Zuko couldn’t quite tell where it had gone.

They rowed back to the Wani. They waited.

…---…

“We can’t just let them go.” Hakoda said, softly. “They would rather fight than give up that ship. So- the question is do we fight, or do we try to get them to do something for us?”

The men didn’t want to let them go. Most didn’t believe that the Wani was nearly as recognizable as the Fire Nation man had made it out to be. They were Fire Nation- liars and murderers all.

It was decided- these men might not be soldiers now, but they could be recalled at any time. Any ship could cause damage to innocents. So Hakoda would attack. They would take the ship- and they would see how much use they could get out of a ship that would be detained by any other vessel in Fire Nation waters. _If that was even true_.

…---…

Iroh watched to flag go up and barely kept himself from growling. He’d known this would probably be the outcome- but peace would have been nice.

He stood from his place on the deck, eyes going to Zuko immediately. The boy was angry. Anger was good- it meant he wasn’t despairing. Iroh would help him save all that could be saved. Then he’d have to help Zuko get over the loss of what _couldn’t_ be saved. He would not lose another son.

…---…

Boarding was easier and harder than expected. Ropes and wooden ships burned, but enough water made getting things to burn difficult.

But the men hadn’t even tried to burn through the ropes, instead, they waited for _lighting_ to begin striking the Water Tribe warriors. _Lightning_ , which was supposed to be something only the Fire Nation royal family knew how to use, a family that hadn’t been directly fighting in the war since the Dragon of the West was defeated in Ba Sing Se.

Fire took time to kill people, which is why most fire benders would go for the ropes first. Lightning didn’t have the same problem. Men died, far many more than should have died this early in the fight.

They had been counting on numbers being on their side. This- wasn’t good. But even still, his men didn’t retreat, and they didn’t falter. They pushed onboard. They fought.

Hakoda didn’t have benders. The Fire Nation ship did, and in greater numbers proportionally than any other fire nation ship Hakoda had even seen. Still, men fell on both sides. The old man had, apparently, been right. Significant loss of life indeed.

…---…

Zuko gave the signal and the men curled out, spreading, then in, pulling the Water Tribe men _away_ from their ship, further onto the deck of the Wani. The helmsman was already in position for when they burned the Water tribe ship off- he’d get them out.

…---…

The ship was moving… oddly. Hakoda didn’t notice at first. Then he glanced up, to see their helmsmen maneuvering their ship closer and closer to other, surrounding ships in the fleet, then drawing back. Taunting. All with Hakoda’s ship attached. It was a rather impressive maneuver really.

The ships responded, some pulling out of formation as if to try to join the fight, others staying in formation as ordered. This created a gap in the line, a place for the Wani to escape through. With the wind they’d been having for the last few days, the Wani would get away if they made it through.

Hakoda couldn’t let that happen. He jumped forward, dodging around fights and drawing closer to the Helmsman. Someone noticed.

…---…

Iroh flung fire at the lines that attached the Water Tribe vessel to their own. Burning through anything this waterlogged was difficult- but they didn’t call him the Dragon of the West for nothing.

Some of the Water Tribe men noticed what he was doing, tried to stop him- they slowed him, but he fought on. He glanced up, once. Zuko was fighting- one on one. They were well matched but Zuko had the upper hand.

Iroh turned back to his own fight. Zuko would die, all of them would die if they didn’t get this Water Tribe ship off. Iroh would be there as fast as he could.

…---…

A captain with a rather strange sort of ponytail on his head and a livid red scar branded to the left side of his face stepped in front of Hakoda- keeping him away from the helmsman.

They fought, one with flames and one without. They were well matched, but Hakoda couldn’t get around the Captain to the helmsman. The captain was winning.

Hakoda felt frustration begin to bubble inside of him before inspiration hit. The Captain didn’t really _want_ to kill him. He was just trying to keep Hakoda away from the helmsman. Just like Hakoda wasn’t really trying to kill the captain- he was trying to get to the helmsman. He was fighting the captain, but having a goal made him predictable. Just as the captain was predictable.

His focus, even in negotiations, had been to keep his crew alive. Which was what he was trying to do now, by keeping Hakoda away from the helmsman. That gave Hakoda an opening.

He sprang forward, drawing a dagger and throwing it in the general direction of the helmsman. He was a terrible aim, but the captain didn’t know that. The Captain’s right eye widened as he twitched towards the helmsman. Hakoda took advantage of the momentary surprise, swinging his club into the captain’s ribs. _Fire bending comes from the breath._ Something cracked in there, Hakoda could hear it. _Kill their breath, kill their fire, kill them._ The captain gasped in pain and Hakoda shifted, pulling his leg under one of the Captain’s, bringing him to the ground.

He raised himself up again, ready to swing his club down into the Captain’s face and end him before moving on to the helmsman. And- hesitated. The Captain was a fifteen-year-old _boy_. Sokka’s age.

Hakoda heard someone roar and spun, club at the ready. He realized, then, why he’d gotten the impression that the old man was a soldier.

…---…

Iroh held a dagger of flame to the Chief’s throat. The remaining Water Tribe warriors were surrounded. Fighting, but surrounded. It took more willpower than it should have not to kill the Chief now. Zuko was on the ground, but he was getting to his feet even now. He was alive.

Iroh nodded to Jee, who signaled the rest of the men. They took a step back, letting the Water Tribe members stop fighting so they could listen. “Water Tribe,” Iroh shouted, “We are out of the ring of your ships. Surrender now and you and your Chief will live. If you swear to never again raise arms against the Wani we will drop you off at a neutral port, and your fleet can retrieve you. If you agree to our terms, drop your weapons. We give you our word of honor none of you will be harmed after your surrender unless you seek to fight again.”

It was a much better deal than they’d given Zuko. Zuko didn’t have a fleet, and he _wouldn’t_ be getting another ship if the Wani was lost.

One of the men, the Second, dropped his weapons. The others followed.

The uninjured of the Wani’s crew used the good rope to tie the remaining warrior’s hands behind them before leading them to the brig. There really wasn’t enough room for all of them, but they squished together quite admirably.

Iroh might have offered them tea for their cooperation- but his next stop was the infirmary, where he’d have to tell his nephew that four of the people he’d been trying to protect had died. Iroh walked on.


	8. Ouch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is particularly happy

Zuko was working in the infirmary. His cracked ribs made moving- and breathing- hurt- but it was better to be working and helping people than the be thinking about the ones who would never get up again.

The infirmary was a mess- only the worst cases were actually in it. Some of them were slipping and Zuko had to _be_ here. He needed to keep them from dying. He needed to _save_ them.

Some of the prisoners had been badly wounded- they would be treated after all the worst of the Wani’s crew’s injuries.

The doctor hesitated over Yami. Gut wound- and a bad one. She was the worst off- Zuko still wasn’t sure why they hadn’t started working on her first. But the doctor knew what to do- he was saving people.

The doctor gave her something to drink and she relaxed. Then the doctor moved on. Zuko didn’t understand- and then he did. _Some people can’t be saved. We’re working on the people we can save._ For a long moment Zuko felt like he’d been clubbed again. Yami- Yami was going to die too.

Zuko didn’t _know_ how to save her. The doctor was letting him help- was letting anyone help who wasn’t needed for something else- but Zuko wasn’t a healer. Zuko didn’t know if the doctor was right- if there was really nothing to be done.

All Zuko could do was keep going. He kept going until long after Yami’s final breath rattled out and she fell still.

…---…

The doctor sent Zuko to bed, saying that his hands were shaking too much for him to help anymore. He couldn’t… he didn’t think he could sleep.

Zuko found himself by the brig. The Water Tribe warriors didn’t look very comfortable- there wasn’t enough room for them. This ship- and the brig- were both rather small.

Zuko just stared at them for a long moment. They were tall people. He saw the Chief almost immediately. Hakoda was staring back at him. In a distant part of his mind Zuko knew he must look terrible- covered as he was in other people’s blood.

“We treated your men,” Zuko found himself saying, feeling dazed. “The doctor thinks they’re all going to live.”

Hakoda looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “That’s good to hear.”

“If you want to care for your own dead five of you can be temporarily released to do the rites. You’ll need to promise not to attack.”

The chief nodded again. “I will choose the five.”

Zuko nodded and just- kept standing there. He couldn’t seem to move. “Do you need us to do something?”

“Why did you attack us?” Zuko asked- and he _hated_ that his voice caught. “We weren’t- we weren’t doing _anything_. We aren’t even _part_ of this stupid war. We said- we said we’d do something for you. You didn’t have to kill them. You didn’t _have to_ kill them. Why’d you kill them? Why is it so hard for everyone to understand that _I don’t want to fight_!” He started out whispering and ended shouting.

The men were staring at him. Some of them looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Hakoda was looking at him steadily. “We gave you a chance not to fight- you didn’t take it.”

“That wasn’t a real choice.” Zuko was trying to point at Hakoda but his hand was trembling. He couldn’t keep it steady. “We would have all died because surrender never _works_. It doesn’t. You say you don’t want to fight- but if they say that you need to- you need to get up and _fight_ \- then you fight. Because not fighting always hurts _worse_.” His scar was itching.

Hakoda sighed, softly. “We are at war. We attacked because you are Fire Nation and the Fire Nation has been waging war against the rest of the world for a century. You say you’re out of the war- fine. But how easy would it be for you to be recalled- for your ship or your men to end up fighting anyways? We saw a chance to end a future threat- and we took it.”

Zuko stared at him for a long moment. He wanted to shout at them- he wanted to _burn_ something- but he was just so _tired_. He turned and walked away.

Uncle had been organizing the cremations. There were five bodies that needed to go to ashes. Zuko still couldn’t breathe quite right- but he needed to be part of the ceremony. The men had died under his watch- he’d failed them. He would be with them for this.

…---…

“We attacked a fifteen-year-old,” Hakoda said.

Bato nodded.

“And we lost.”

Bato nodded again.

…---…

Akimo didn’t like or trust the Water Tribe warriors. They’d promised not to attack anyone while they did their rights, but who knew what promises actually meant to these people? Other nations had weird views on honor.

Akimo inwardly winced at that thought as he glanced over at the younger prince. Their nation had some weird views about honor to.

Akimo was one of the guards assigned to make sure their prisoners didn’t do anything while they were dealing with their dead. He didn’t like the job. It was hard to look intimidating when your prisoners were so much taller than you.

It was also hard to watch them just walking around fine when so many of their own were bleeding and dying or dead because of them. Of course, the princes had killed quite a few of their men with lightning in the first bit of the fight- the only reason the Wani had made it out safe actually, but still. _They_ had just been defending themselves.

One of them glanced towards Prince Zuko. Akimo shifted so he mostly blocked the prince from view. Stupid water tribe. They really needed to be shorter.

…---…

The Fire Nation burned their dead. Hakoda knew they did but it was still odd to see. Hakoda gave his men back to the ocean.

The boy captain was still covered in blood- blood that was very clearly not his own. He was just… staring at the ashes that had been his men.

The old man, who was clearly more than an advisor, walked behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It is not your fault Prince Zuko.” He said. His voice was quiet, but Hakoda still heard.

 _Prince_ Zuko. Prince Zuko, who was traveling on an Avatar-hunt with his uncle. The lightning suddenly made a lot more sense.

…---…

It would take them two weeks to make it to a suitable neutral port.

Zuko had avoided the water tribe prisoners for the most part since that first day. But he had a question, and it wouldn’t go away.

They’d spread the prisoners out a bit, making them work in exchange for getting out of the brig. Akimo was watching over Hakoda as he scrubbed the floor of the mess hall. “Hakoda,” Zuko said, “You could have killed me. You hesitated. Why?”

Hakoda glanced up. His mouth twisted- an almost bemused, slightly bitter smile on his face. He sighed. “For a moment,” he said, “You reminded me of my son. He’s your age.”

Zuko blinked. Why would that have made him hesitate? “Is your son a really powerful bender or something?” he asked.

Something about that comment set a fire in Hakoda’s eyes. “The south has no more Water Benders. The Fire Nation killed them all.”

Okay… “Is he a great warrior then?”

“He’s fourteen!”

“… and?”

Hakoda looked even angrier now. He probably would have stood, but Akimo was holding his sword in a way that made it clear he wouldn’t mind using it. “Why would my son need to be a powerful warrior or a great bender? How would that have anything to do with how much I love him?”

Zuko glared at the man. “It might have a lot to do with it!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

Then he walked away. Walked. He wasn’t running. He wasn’t even walking that fast.

…---…

Akimo glared at the man who was still kneeling on the floor. It might have been more effective if the man had been looking at him.

“Come on,” he said, kicking Hakoda’s foot lightly. “I need to patrol. I’m watching you so you need to come with me.”

Hakoda looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. Akimo wasn’t jealous of that either. Raising both eyebrows was more effective anyways.

Hakoda stood though and walked where Akimo told him to until they found the General.

“General Iroh sir,” Akimo said, “Captain Zuko needed your advice on our heading after we drop off the prisoners.”

Iroh nodded to him, brown crinkling in a distinctly concerned sort of way. “Of course,” he said, “Where would I find him?”

… Akimo didn’t actually know.

…---…

Iroh knocked on Zuko’s door. He didn’t say to come in, but he didn’t yell at Iroh to leave either. Iroh walked in, balancing a tea pot and two cups. Zuko was sitting on his bed, staring at his hands. He looked up for a moment when Iroh walked in, then went back to an intensive study of his hands.

Iroh set down his tray, setting a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Prince Zuko, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Zuko didn’t look up. He remained silent for a long moment. When he did speak his voice was nearly a whisper. “He hesitated. The stupid water tribe warrior could have killed me- and he hesitated.” Zuko laughed- not a true laugh but a barking, derisive sound. “He hesitated and…” his voice broke. _And Ozai didn’t._

Iroh sat beside Zuko, wrapping his arms around his nephew. Zuko let himself be held, leaning against Iroh.

“You asked him why?”

Zuko laughed again, a broken sound. “He said I reminded him of his son.”

Zuko was crying then, crying in a way he hadn’t cried in years and Iroh could do nothing but hold him. _Brother,_ he thought, as he held the boy he thought of as a son, _I will never forgive you for this. Never._

…---…

Many Earth Kingdom generals had known that a banished Fire Nation prince was on a hunt for the Avatar, but killing a banished prince wasn’t worth the time it would take to find his ship.

When a group of Water Tribe warriors were released back to their fleet new information leaked about the ship they’d been trapped on.

Unlike a banished prince, the Dragon of the West was someone worth finding. The Earth Kingdom held quite a grudge against the only man who’d even broken through the walls of Ba Sing Se. 


	9. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko decides. Iroh decides. Pirates also decide.

They dropped the Water Tribe Warriors off, then went to the nearest Fire Nation port and hired five new people. Zuko was careful to remember their names, as careful as he was in remembering the names of the dead. After he’d started getting the letters he’d memorized the names of those he failed among the 41st. After the battle with the Water Tribe he added the five of his crew to his list.

He needed to remember them. He hadn’t been able to save them, he’d failed them, the least he could do was remember them. And not fail the new ones that fell under his care.

…---…

Zuko walked into the infirmary. He’d been helping every day since the battle but he wanted to be able to do more. He didn’t like feeling helpless.

He looked at the doctor for a long moment. The doctor looked back. Finally, Zuko spoke. “I want you to teach me healing,” he said. _I want to know- to be able to save them. Help them._

The doctor didn’t look particularly surprised. He nodded. “If I might make a suggestion sir,” he asked.

Zuko nodded. “Bring at least two others with you. Having more than one person to teach can improve lessons and it would be good to have more people I can trust in healing on board.”

Zuko nodded again. A member from the old and a new members would probably be the best combination. Akimo would be one of them. Riko would be the other.

…---…

Riko wasn’t necessarily displeased by her new assignment. At the same time, she wished she’d had a choice.

The doctor was a nice older man but he was kind of boring.

Prince Zuko didn’t seem to have a problem with it, he listened like his life depended on it. Or, more precisely, like their lives depended on it.

Akimo also made a concerted effort to learn, he probably still felt guilty that the Prince had taken his punishment for him and was trying to make up for it.

Riko didn’t know the prince as well as the rest of the crew, didn’t quite understand the loyalty they seemed to feel for the prince who was a shouty brat half the time. The other half, when he looked so quietly mournful, was worse though.

It was a war, people died. She’d accepted that long ago- everyone needed to eventually. Even still, the price was only fifteen, even if the scar made it easy to forget.

She wished sometimes that the war would just end, that the blood would stop spilling. Treasonous thoughts, dangerous thoughts, but she thought them all the same.

So she listened too- not because the prince asked her to, not because the doctor was nice, but because she wanted the chance to stop a little bit of the blood that was flowing out- wanted to be able to _save_ something. She couldn’t stop the war- but she might be able to help alleviate some of the symptoms.

…---…

“I need to learn more than basic fire bending Uncle.” Zuko said, feeling his temper fraying at the edges.

Uncle looked at him for a long moment. Ever since the attack he’d taken a far more active role in Zuko’s training, literally. He went through everything with Zuko, working both of them ragged. Zuko had forced the crew to train more as well, the better they were the less likely they were to die. What they really needed was the Avatar so that they could go home- but though there had been plenty of false findings the real Avatar was frustratingly elusive.

“Everything builds off the basics.” Uncle said. “Fire bending comes from the breath. To bend, you must breathe. Then the basics. Then, everything else. A house built on an unstable foundation will _fall_ Prince Zuko.”

All true, but it didn’t stop the panic rising in him. He needed to go beyond this, they would die, they would all die because he wasn’t good enough and he needed to be better and they were going to die and- “You need to teach me the advanced sets!” Zuko shouted, “I need to know them!” _I can’t let them die because I’m not good enough._

Uncle was just looking at him, and for a long moment he said nothing. “One more week with the basics,” he said, “Then we move on.”

Zuko wanted to yell some more because that wasn’t soon enough and they were going to _die_ \- but Uncle said he was going to teach him. Zuko swallowed his terror and nodded.

…---…

The Earth Kingdom didn’t have much of a navy, they were the Earth Kingdom. They didn’t have anything to bend over the waves.

In much the same way, the Water Tribes didn’t have much of an army- it was easiest to bend over the waves.

The Air Nomads hadn’t had an army or a navy- and they were dead now.

The Fire Nation had both, and they were winning. So the Earth Kingdom had swallowed some of its terror at moving somewhere without earth, and they’d constructed a navy. Constructed being a loose term of course, they hadn’t really _built_ anything. They’d hired mercenaries, people who knew how to fight on a ship, who knew how to sail, and who, so long as they did what they were asked, got paid.

Really though, calling mercenaries was being generous. Calling them pirates was more accurate. They fought against the Fire Nation though, so, for now, they were the lesser of two evils.

…---…

Even a small navy wouldn’t have trouble against one ship. If they could _find_ the elusive ship the Dragon of the West was reportedly on.

The knowledge had come from the Water Tribe navy, and at first Tien hadn’t believed it. Getting this bounty- it would be far too easy. He’d asked around though, he had friends in many places. It had been confirmed- the Dragon was with his nephew. Tien would find him. Then he’d crush the Dragon’s hands and bring him, and his nephew, back to the Earth Kingdom for execution.

It would be good for moral- to see one who had been so feared brought so low. That’s what the Earth Kingdom would say as they paid him anyways, and money really made Tien happy. Life was so much _easier_ when money was plentiful.

All they needed to do was find the ship, and make sure the rest of the Earth Kingdom Navy didn’t get there first. 

The ocean was large, the ship was not. And it traveled alone. Bad for fighting, great for hiding. There were only so many ports though, and Tien had built contacts in all of the neutral ones the Wani could dock at. He would find them soon enough.

…---…

Zuko held a spyglass to his eye. He saw ships, too many ships. They were Earth Kingdom pirates. They were getting closer.

They didn’t seem in the mood to parley.


	10. Soon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is having a bad day- but it could be worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!   
> Thanks for the comments! They are and were truly and inspiration.

Their ship limped, if a ship could limp, into a neutral port a week later. They’d tried to make it to a Fire Nation port, but the Earth Kingdom Navy had cut them off and they didn’t have enough men to risk a direct confrontation.

But they’d needed to resupply, and their ship had been hit, so this is what they’d come to. What they really needed was another ship.

Iroh could remember that conversation- it hadn’t been pleasant, but it had been necessary. Zuko had been pacing his room, muttering to himself when he knocked on the door and was let in. “Zuko,” he’d said, “Our ship is very recognizable, especially in these waters. We cannot run forever, not with them herding us as they are. We need a new ship.”

“I know we can’t keep doing this but how are we supposed to stay supplied in a different ship! We can’t lose the Wani and still go to Fire Nation ports for a stipend! How are we going to keep everyone together and alive if we get another ship! We have money left- some- from our last stop but it won’t keep us forever!” Zuko was panicking.

Iroh let his hand rest on Zuko’s shoulder. It wasn’t really resting because Zuko was so much taller than him, but it helped Zuko so it was worth it. “There are other ways to make money. We could get a merchant vessel, we have enough money to start out there, and if we were able to sell the Wani we’d have more. I have contacts that might make such a sale easier.”

Zuko wasn’t convinced, but he was listening and Iroh had another card up his sleeve. “If people begin to trust us it could make it easier for us to find the Avatar. They are unlikely to tell a Fire Nation prince, but Earth Kingdom merchants would have more luck.”

Zuko was definitely thinking now, and Iroh left him to it, taking a small step back to give the boy some room.

He looked up again. “I don’t know anything about being a merchant.” He said, and Iroh knew that he was afraid. Afraid of being stuck in a role he had no idea how to live in without warning, without training, again.

Iroh found himself smiling a little. “Luckily for you,” he said, “I know some people. There are those among the crew even who could help us get started.”

Zuko told him he’d think about it. Iroh had known his decision was already made though. Protect the crew. That was his first priority now, and right behind that was get them home. Any move that got him closer to both goals at once would be seen as a golden opportunity.

Now it was almost time.

…---…

Zuko stayed on the ship about half the crew- the other half went with Uncle. Fights between nations weren’t allowed at neutral ports, that didn’t mean the pirates were actually going to follow the rules. In fact, Zuko was counting on them not following the rules.

Uncle had gone to see if he could secure a buyer for their ship. Zuko was just waiting for the sun the set- then his job would be to go back to his cabin, put on the Blue Spirit mask, and scout out which pirate ship they should steal.

He was almost excited. After they stole it they’d need to sell it and buy a new one legally so they could get the correct licenses- but that was a worry for a later time. For now they just needed to get a new ship and get out of here before the pirates figured out what they were up to.

Turning from Avatar hunters to merchants _and_ Avatar hunters was a problem that could wait until later.

For now- they needed to get out of this alive.

….---…

Tien couldn’t believe his luck. This- this wasn’t just luck. It was as if all the Spirits had decided to smile down at him at once. The old man had left the ship with a fair amount of crew members, enough to make the Dragon’s capture almost impossible.

Then, the Dragon had split from them. They’d let him be, and now he was alone. Well, not quite alone, it seemed like he’d found someone to play Pai Sho with him, but it was close enough. This was the opportunity they’d been looking for, a way to get to the Dragon without really fighting him.

He motioned to a couple of his men. A few on the inside, to make sure the Dragon didn’t get to any tricky business, couldn’t sneak out the back or nothing. The rest would wait outside, just out of sight, so they could jump him while his eyes were still adjusting to the darkness outside.

A quick job. Almost too easy.

…---…

It was easy to shout at his crew and say he was going to bed. They knew what was actually going on anyways. It was easy to slip into the blue spirit costume and easy to sneak off the ship. It was after that things started to get a little harder.

He hadn’t really thought of how big the port was, or how he was supposed to tell which ships were normal people’s ships and which were pirate ships. It took him longer than he wanted to finally make it to the section where the Earth Kingdom Navy had docked, and he only found them on accident.

Getting on these ships was harder than getting off his own, but that was probably because he was actually worried about getting caught. Not that he couldn’t fight his way out if he needed to, but it would be much harder to steal the ship if people on board were on the lookout for it.

He found the perfect ship and watched as a group of pirates dragged his Uncle on board. He’d seen a group of people dragging something and thought it couldn’t be good, so he’d followed. It hadn’t been good, but it could have been worse. He could have missed them. The fear almost made him freeze though, and the anger that followed was a welcome distraction. He wasn’t quite sure who he was angry at- Uncle for getting himself captured trying to help him, the crew for not protecting Uncle, the pirates, himself for getting banished so this was necessary in the first place, but it didn’t really matter. Anger let him start moving again.

The pirates wouldn’t leave tonight, he knew that- he still didn’t want to leave his Uncle alone. At the same time it probably wasn’t safe to take on this many people on his own, not if he wanted to do it stealthily. He needed the ship and his Uncle, and he needed to get them without alerting the rest of the Navy. It was almost convenient that the ship and his Uncle were in the same place. 

…---…

The crew members who’d gone out returned with Earth Kingdom clothes, two pairs for each person on board. They got changed on board the ship. Zuko felt ridiculous in the Earth Kingdom clothes. He wasn’t supposed to be wearing _green_. He put it on anyways.

He had a mirror in his quarters. He stared at it for a long moment. An Earth Kingdom merchant. With a Phoenix tail. He felt his breath speed up as he clutched his knife. He didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to do this. It felt like a betrayal, it felt like giving up- but he had to.

Earth Kingdom merchants did not have Phoenix tails. Before he could overthink it the knife came up and the hair fell down into his hand. He stared at it for a moment, then dropped it onto the bed. He didn’t need it anymore. It was time to get Uncle back. Protect the crew- protect Uncle- that’s what mattered.


	11. To get a new ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get a new ship

The plan was simple, which was good. Simple plans were easy to remember. The problem was that even the simplest of plans often went wrong. 

He breathed in, then out. He nodded to the men. They’d wait ten minutes, they didn’t have the luxury of using a signal, then they’d come. Zuko slunk away into the darkness. 

It was harder than usual, not only because he was wearing green, but because all of them were weighed down with the possessions they could carry. They were allowed to take anything as long as they could fight while carrying it, or a small bag they could drop quickly if necessary. Food and water came first though.

Around ¼ of the crew were simply carrying supplies, they wouldn’t be able to come back to this port for more.

The other ¾ of the crew were split into two parties, those who would fight and those who would get the ship out onto the water. The tide was nearly perfect now, though the lighting was abysmal.

Zuko made it onto the ship without issue. It was when he got to the brig that things started being… strange.

The ship was a large one, the brig on one of the lower levels, though it wasn’t really a proper brig, probably just a storage room they’d converted into a prison cell on short notice.

Uncle was… singing. Was he drunk? Or trying to pretend to be drunk?

There were two guards outside the door, but Zuko couldn’t see inside the room because the door was wooden. He could take the guards easy enough, but probably not silently enough. He needed to try not to wake the rest of the pirate crew up, it would be far easier for his crew to fight them if they were disoriented.

Zuko breathed. In and out. In and out.

“Can we shut him up?” One of the guards asked.

The other guard shrugged. “They didn’t tell us _not_ too.”

Zuko felt his blood boil. He waited for them to turn, for one of them to reach for the keys on his belt, and then he struck.

Twin Dao came off his back and into his hands. He slammed the hilt into one man’s head, as hard as he could. The man toppled and before his companion could shout Zuko’s other blade sliced through his throat. Zuko caught the man before he could fall, easing him to the ground.

The blood had sprayed everywhere, soaking through Zuko’s clothes. This was why he didn’t wear green- blood showed up far too easily.

The fight wasn’t over but this fight was over. Zuko was trembling, Uncle was still singing, and the guards were out. One was out permanently.

It took him two tries to grab the keys, three to open the door once he’d gotten the correct key in.

Uncle fell silent when he saw Zuko. His arms were chained against his chest so he couldn’t move, couldn’t bend. Zuko stepped forward with the keys once more. It took far too long to unlock Uncle’s arms. It was stupid, Zuko didn’t have time to go into shock now. Most of the fight was still ahead.

“Crew’s coming.” Zuko said. “Any second now. We’ll take the ship and sail out tonight. I take it you didn’t get to sell the Wani?”

Uncle looked at him for a long moment. “You did well nephew,” he said, “We can attack from the inside while they begin the frontal assault. And as for the Wani…”

He reached inside a sleeve, pulling out a bag of coins. Zuko wasn’t quite sure how the pirates had missed that. Did they even search him for weapons? What kind of pirates were these anyways?

Uncle grinned, though the smile seemed strained somehow. “I believe the Wani will be in good hands.”

…---…

The attack was swift and deadly. The pirates were fighters, and good ones, but they were not trained soldiers. Still, Zuko lost three more men, one in the initial assault, two to their wounds later.

Zuko, Riko, and Akimo had helped as much as they could, but they’d really only had a couple weeks of training. It wasn’t enough. It was _never_ enough.

He didn’t even know how he could write their families. He didn’t have the Wani anymore, he couldn’t just go to the Fire Nation, couldn’t… couldn’t… He’d have to ask Uncle about it. Uncle had all sorts of weird friends, surely at least _one_ of them could get letters into the Fire Nation.

They shoved all the pirates into one of the smaller boats aboard and set them loose. They were still close enough to shore that the pirates should be able to get back easily enough, though it would take time. Time Zuko and his crew could use to get away.

The other ships had noticed the commotion, but most of the men were gone or asleep. They couldn’t follow, at least not fast enough.

Zuko took the time to breathe, in and out. In and out.

They had the ship and money from the sale of the Wani. Zuko really wondered about Uncle’s friends sometimes. Who would even want a Fire Nation ship? And why?

He shrugged the thought off.

He’d lost more people tonight, good people. He couldn’t bring them back, couldn’t save them, but he could remember them.

And so he did, repeating their names over and over and over again.

He would just have to work harder to protect the rest of them. He could save the rest of them. They would find the Avatar, and then they would be able to go home.

They would go home.

He’d make sure of it


	12. A new job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of first times

Zuko didn’t remember much of the first time he’d put on Earth Kingdom green. He’d been focused on Uncle, but he still remembered that it felt wrong. The second time it still felt wrong. It kept feeling wrong as he tried to scrub the blood out of the original set, he only really had two sets of clothes now.

They had brought as much of their armor as they dared… but food and water had needed to come before clothes and soap and such.

The third time wasn’t as bad.

As time went on, the feeling of wrongness never completely went away. But it did fade. Some.

…---…

The first time Zuko tried to sell something he felt like he was wearing a mask that didn’t fit. He wanted to run. But Uncle was there, and his crew needed him. He stayed.

…---…

The first time Zuko counted out the money they’d made- made with their work, their skill, he felt proud. He’d never earned money before- he’d _had_ money, money he’d gotten by virtue of his family, but he’d never _earned_ it.

Zuko had sometimes wondered if he got an allowance because his father felt guilty, because his father actually trusted him to get the job done, because his father wanted to keep him occupied and away… He’d never really known _why_.

It probably had something to do with Uncle.

This was different though. It wasn’t all Uncle- Zuko had a hand in the buying and the selling and the shipping… on a ship he’d bought. He’d never earned money before… but now he had.

…---...

The first time Zuko arrived at a small village they were planning on selling to and found nothing but ashes he’d felt sick.

There had been people here, people who’d built lives and homes here, and now they were gone. They were gone because his people had come and burnt and… what was the point of it? The Fire Nation obviously wasn’t using this ground now- it was abandoned.

Zuko couldn’t tell if they were dead or if they’d run, unable to make a living in a place so burnt, unable to start over on salted ground.

…---…

The first time Zuko got a commission was from an old, old man who wanted to send his daughter a present. They had to make their route all twisty to deliver it, but they did.

The daughter cried as she held it.

The old man had died before they’d gotten to her. Zuko wondered if they’d been able to say goodbye. He wondered what his father would do if Zuko died.

Would he regret banishing Zuko? Would he want him back?

Would he care? Would he even notice?

…---…

Zuko let his hair grow out in all the places it _could_ grow. This was the first time that he’d let it grow since he’d first gotten burnt. He’d shaved it since then.

Hair couldn’t grow on the scar. It reminded him of the Earth Kingdom village, the one that’d been all burnt up, no life left on it.

That train of thought didn’t go much further, but if it had, Zuko might have thought about what Ozai was really doing to the world. About how Ozai was burning, not building. Destroying rather than sharing greatness.

…---…

They’d been in port for less than four hours when they got a message. A message from the Water Tribe fleet that had come into port directly behind them.

Jee felt his insides turn to ice, but he forced himself to read.

It wasn’t what he’d expected. It was a request… a commission. A job.

They wanted _Prince_ to deliver supplies and letters to the Southern Water Tribe. They wanted to discuss the terms aboard their ship.

Jee blinked.

They did need the money… but if they did this it would be some of the new crew members negotiating, to make sure that they weren’t recognized.

He tapped the message speculatively, then went to find the Prince and the General.

…---…

Riko forced herself to breathe. Giana and Tadi were coming with her. She didn’t need to panic about the fact that she was pretending to be the captain so that the stupid Southern Water Tribe men wouldn’t come and try to kill them all.

Of the five newbies, Riko was the one who looked least Fire Nation. Which made sense, she came from the colonies after all. She was glad that she wasn’t an earth bender most of the time, she wasn’t a bender at all, but right now it would have been useful to have some skill that would help prove her to be from the Earth Kingdom.

Of course, Earthbenders had a thing against going on the ocean for too long in the best of cases. So, it probably wouldn’t have helped anyways.

Riko made it all the way to the main Water Tribe vessel, and she hadn’t hyperventilated yet. So far, so good.

The Captain, or Chief, or whatever they called him, was waiting for them.

“Are you the captain?” Hakoda asked, and Riko shook her head.

“I’m representing the captain.” She said, “He has taken ill. I’m acting second in command.”

Which was a blend of falsehoods and truth that would hopefully sound real enough to keep the Water Tribe men from suspecting anything.

“You have authority to make decisions though?” Hakoda asked, and Riko nodded. They’d actually trusted her to tell whether they should take the job or not. She wasn’t sure if she appreciated it or was terrified of the responsibility.

He led her to sit down, and she expected him to produce tea… but he didn’t. Riko chided herself inwardly for getting to used to the General and his habits. Still, she wouldn’t have minded some tea, it was calming.

They talked, about price and when he could expect the goods to get to his tribe and whether they would deliver personal letters and how they’d make sure the letters actually ended up in the right hands. They talked about getting confirmation when the job was finished.

The Southern Water Tribe wasn’t rich. Still, _Prince_ could make a profit off of this job, especially if they stopped in a couple places in the Earth Kingdom of the way there and back. Getting some furs to trade wouldn’t go amiss either, and the Water Tribes were well known for those…

They took the job.


	13. Twelve is almost thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko reads some letters and meets Aang

Hakoda had children. Two children, one a boy, and, Zuko guessed by the name, one girl. He’d written two letters, one to each of them.

Zuko felt like the letters were burning holes through his ship. He wanted to read them. He needed to see. Ozai hadn’t sent Zuko letters, not even a _single_ letter, in the entirety of his banishment. Would it have been different if Ozai was the one who’d been away? Fighting in the war?

Zuko wondered as he looked at the letters which one was older, Sokka, or Katara. If Sokka was older was Katara better than Sokka? More talented? And if so, why had it been Sokka’s memory that’d stayed Hakoda’s hand?

Zuko had the letters in his room. They’d been with the rest of the transport at first but after he’d seen them he couldn’t get them out of his mind. They weren’t even sealed. And the man had tried to kill him. Had attacked his crew. Hakoda owed him.

Zuko opened the letter to Sokka first.

 _My son,_ it opened, and Zuko felt briefly like he was drowning. Or burning. He wasn’t sure which.

_I think I finally found ship willing to deliver to the South Pole for a price we can afford, which is a miracle in and of itself. I miss you, you and your sister both, and want nothing more than to be able to go home. When the war is over._

Zuko couldn’t help but wonder if the war would ever be over, if the monstrous thing that sucked away so many lives would ever halt, if it would ever be satisfied. How much blood could be spilt before someone screamed for peace?

The letter continued. Hakoda explained about what he’d been doing. He told Sokka that he believed in him.

He made sure that Sokka was looking out for Katara and the rest of the village.

 _I have to thank you,_ Hakoda wrote near the end, _your memory saved my life a few months ago. There was a lone Fire Nation ship, and we thought we could take it intact with minimal casualties. It was a rare opportunity. It was a war ship, but it had a civilian license. It was run for the sole purpose of finding the Avatar._

_They sought a peaceful resolution and we attacked. The attack did not go well from the start. Two of the firebenders aboard could also bend lightning. Even still, we were gaining a foothold and probably would have won, but the fire nation helmsman was a wily one. He was getting them out._

_I went after him, and the captain of the ship defended. He was only fifteen, and so when he was at my mercy I hesitated, thinking of you. If I had killed the boy I have no doubt that I, along with the rest of the Water Tribe men who were captured, would be dead right now. The boy’s uncle was very protective._

_Instead of killing us though, they let us go. Compassion begets compassion._

It went on for a while more. Then,

_I love you Sokka. Be brave. Be strong. Be true._

_Until we meet again._

_Your Father, Hakoda._

Zuko’s hands were trembling and his eyes were blurring with tears and it didn’t even make _sense_ because this wasn’t his father and that wasn’t his name.

Zuko blinked the tears away and placed the letter back almost reverently.

He reached for Katara’s. He had no right to these letters, no right to read them, but he was doing so anyways.

_My daughter,_

It began much the same way that Sokka’s had. Zuko wondered if they would exchange their letters, then scoffed to himself. He imagined Ozai sending him and Azula letters. There was no doubt they’d both eventually read the other one’s letter, but it wouldn’t be a _willing_ exchange.

In Katara’s letter Hakoda explained more about the men, how they were doing rather than exactly what they were doing. It was different, but not inequal.

And then…

_You have a special gift Katara. I am sorry that you do not, that you cannot, have a teacher as of yet, but I believe in you. Learn what you can now, and the day will come that you will find mastery. You would settle for nothing less._

Zuko puzzled over the words for a moment. Katara… she must be a water bender.

Katara was a waterbender and Sokka wasn’t a bender at all and Hakoda… his letters had the same warmth for _both_ of them. His letters were different enough to suggest he’d been writing based on what the recipients would be interested in, what they’d need to know. 

_“Why would my son need to be a powerful warrior or a great bender? How would that have anything to do with how much I love him?”_ Hakoda had said. He’d said it like he meant it, like he was offended that anyone would ever doubt it. Like it actually didn’t matter to him.

Zuko stared at the letter and felt the tears start coming again, and this time he couldn’t stop them. He put the letter away before he could ruin it with tearstains, Then squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his legs up against his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

What was right? Was Hakoda’s way the way it was supposed to be? Were parents supposed to love their children just… because? _Iroh would have_ , a voice whispered, _he’d have loved Lu Ten no matter what._ And for the first time, Zuko wondered if Iroh had been applying that same love, that same care, to him. Not because he needed to. Not because he was being forced to. Not because he felt guilty. Just… _because_.

…---…

They were fairly close to the village when a pillar of blue light split the sky. Zuko stared at it, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

If that… if that was what he thought it was… Zuko had the sudden urge to bless Hakoda. The desire wilted when he remembered the dead, but this- this could keep the rest of them alive.

Zuko breathed. They’d need to go to the village first, drop the stuff off as fast as possible. They wouldn’t be able to come back to the village if they were chasing the Avatar. Zuko had given his word that these packages would be delivered, and he kept to his word.

It was important, even now.

…---…

As it turned out, they didn’t even have to go after the source of the light. He came to them.

Zuko stared. The boy… he was a child. A _child_.

The girl, Katara, was explaining how he’d been frozen in an iceberg when Katara had magicked him out. Sokka was alternating between accusing Aang and Zuko of being Fire Nation spies. Zuko was staring. “You’re the Avatar?” He shouted at the boy.

The boy started violently, his staff almost toppling out of his grasp as his ever present grin faltered. Everyone around them had stopped moving. Finally, the boy nodded.

“But!” Zuko said, “But- you’re supposed to be an old man! Not a child!” _A child kneeling on the floor, screaming as a handprint was burned into his face…_ “How old even are you?”

“You’re only a teenager.” The boy- Aang, his name was Aang, said.

“How old are you?!” Zuko repeated, louder.

“Twelve!”

“That’s a terrible age!” Zuko said before he could think about it and of course-

“What’s wrong with twelve?”

“It’s almost thirteen!” Zuko realized he was trembling and his entire crew flinched back as though struck. They knew. Somehow that knew and he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

Ozai had held his hair in one hand and cupped his face in the other and started burning. Zuko was Ozai’s son. What would Ozai do to the Avatar, another bright-eyed child who still thought that the world should be fair?

The entire village was looking between him and his crew and Zuko could almost see the dots connecting in their heads. Not all the right dots- they didn’t have the correct pieces for that- but enough.

A burn scar that was years old. Thirteen. A trembling teenager and a crew that’d flinched. The dots there required no great leaps.

 _I hate this. I hate my life so very, very much right now._ Zuko thought. “I’m going to bed.” He said, and he knew he shouldn’t, he should be strong, he should get back to work, he should help… but he didn’t. He walked on. Back to the ship. Back to his room. He lay on his bed and curled up tight.

_What am I supposed to do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep thinking this story is going to end eventually... so far it seems like no...


	14. If the war ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has a breakdown. Iroh is there.

Aang glanced at the young ship captain’s retreating figure. He looked at Katara, and Sokka, then the old man who looked rather concerned as he watched the younger one go.

He looked at the crew and the villagers.

“What happened to him?” Aang asked, breaking the silence after he’d gone.

As one, the crew turned to the short old man. The village followed their lead. The old man sighed, heavily. “He surrendered a fight he could not win.”

More than one person physically recoiled from that. He’d _surrendered_ and-

The old man turned to another man then. “Jee,” he said, “If you would please finish the unloading, I need to see to my nephew.”

Then, with brisk steps, he followed the captain onto the ship.

…---…

Zuko lay on his bed. _The Avatar is twelve. The Avatar is twelve. The Avatar is… twelve?_ He sat up straight.

In all his research the Avatar’s had been told who they were, what they were, when they were sixteen. Had the air nomads been different? Or had they changed something because of the oncoming war?

Had they even known war was coming? He’d seen the corpses- some of which were so very _tiny_. Wouldn’t they have tried to get their young away if they’d known?

Then again, it seemed that they’d gotten the Avatar away.

But- if he was only twelve- he’d have only learned airbending. And if he only knew airbending, and if he was a twelve-year-old boy, there was not reason Ozai would believe Zuko if he said Aang was the Avatar.

Which meant that Aang needed to learn at least one more element before Zuko took him to Ozai. The life of a merchant wasn’t easy, but it was survivable. He hadn’t lost anyone since the fight to get their first ship.

If Aang stayed here- learned as much waterbending as he could from Katara… she didn’t have formal training, but her father had said she was teaching herself. Insufficient, but- still. Enough for Zuko.

Zuko and his crew could leave. They could keep being merchants. They could come back- in a year or something- and get Aang and bring him to Ozai and then they’d be home and- and- Aang would be thirteen.

Something inside of him crumpled and Zuko barely made it to a bucket before he vomited.

…---…

Iroh found Zuko on the floor in his room, spewing his guts into a bucket. Iroh knelt beside him, grabbing a rag to gently wipe Zuko’s face off.

“I don’t know what to do.” Zuko said, desperate. “I’m so confused. What am I supposed to do?” He had grabbed a hold of Iroh’s arms, grip tightening to something almost painful, eyes wide and wild.

“Nephew,” Iroh said, and apparently that was enough.

“He’s twelve. The Avatar is twelve. Father burned me when I was thirteen, and I was swearing my loyalty to him. I was kneeling. I’m his son. He loves me. And he burned a permanent lesson into my face.” Zuko’s breath was coming faster now.

“Nephew,” Iroh tried again, but Zuko didn’t seem to hear him.

“What would he do to the Avatar? The Avatar- he’s not a coward. He wouldn’t kneel. Father wouldn’t kill him- but- you can still be alive and be hurt enough to- to not be able to do anything. And how are we even supposed to prove that he is the Avatar?

“Avatar’s are supposed to be told when they are sixteen. And this one is twelve. He can’t know more than one element. And if he only knows one element why would father believe he was actually the Avatar? Then he probably would kill Aang and the Airbenders would all be gone- and it’d be my fault and he’d send me out again and I’d have to find a baby Waterbender. And he really wouldn’t believe that that was the avatar. So I’d have to raise a baby until it was old enough to bend multiple elements. And- and…” Zuko cut himself off, gasping, and Iroh pointedly did not imagine Zuko raising babies.

He was too young for that yet. Though Iroh wouldn’t mind some grandchildren…

“Why do you need to bring the Avatar to Ozai?” Iroh asked, carefully.

Zuko looked at him, confused, for a long moment. “Because I need to protect the crew. Get them all home.”

“How fast did the 41st division die?” Iroh asked, feeling like he was treading on a knife’s edge. One misstep- and there would be no coming back.

“Fast.” Zuko said, soft. “Too fast.”

Iroh nodded slowly. “Are your men safer on the ship with you, or fighting in this war?”

Zuko opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I’ve- I’ve lost seven. But- that’s less than the 41st…” he was frowning, eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

“Is it safer for them to go home then? Rejoin the navy? Rejoin the war? Or is it safer here?”

“It’s not safe anywhere.” Zuko said, voice rising. “This stupid- _stupid_ war. It’s getting everyone killed. Everyone’s dying and nowhere is safe. I can’t protect them. I can’t keep them safe not matter what I do.”

Zuko was on his feet now, hands gesturing wildly. “I keep them as merchants and- and we still die. The Fire Nation finds us sometime and we’re executed as traitors. Or I bring the Avatar- I bring a twelve year old- to my father and they die in the war on our side.”

Iroh felt his breathe rattle out. He could barely keep the anticipation off of his face. Zuko was so _close_.

“So if the war ended…” Iroh said, voice soft.

Zuko’s eyes widened as much as they could with the burn stretching across his left eye. “They could be safe.”


	15. This is one that is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made  
> People are freaked out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko never finished reading Katara's letter. That's kind of important...

Katara helped Aang settle in for the night, then grabbed her letter. She felt torn between wanting to read it as fast as possible and wanting to save it, to save his words forever. To keep them in reserve.

She opened the letter.

 _My daughter,_ it began and Katara felt tears pricking her eyes from those words alone. She snorted at herself. Getting emotional about two words when she still had the rest of it to get through?

She was still alternating between smiling and crying when she got to a line that struck her as… odd.

_The Fire Nation prince was scarred. Badly. Near half of his face was burnt off. How he got it, I’ve no idea. Still… seeing a scar like that on a child. It was probably some sort of training accident, but there are so many- so many people who’ve been hurt. Burnt. This war… it’s a hard thing._

The letter went on, but Katara felt it falling from nerveless fingers. She snatched it before it could get soaked, reading that line over again.

It couldn’t be. There were surely more than two child captains of ships who had badly burnt faces… and old uncles…

It couldn’t be him. Her father wouldn’t have hired him to bring them letters. And there was no way he wouldn’t have known who they were. Hakoda wouldn’t have hired a Fire Nation crew to deliver their letters, no matter that they had, apparently, been able to do this at a ridiculously low cost.

Still… no. Just- no.

She firmly shoved that thought out of her head and continued with the rest of the letter. She wasn’t going to show Sokka. He’d thought Aang was a Fire Nation spy and Aang was the Avatar. If he saw this…

She hid the letter.

…---…

“How are we supposed to end a war?” Zuko asked, running a hand through his hair.

Iroh hesitated for a long moment. This would also have to be handled… delicately. “Ozai’s rise to become the Fire Lord was… concerning to many in the Fire Nation.”

That was an understatement. The Fire Lord dead, Ozai’s wife gone all in the course of the night? Especially right after Lu Ten? Iroh hadn’t fought it- he’d been broken. He’d felt a measure of relief that his brother had taken over for him so he didn’t have to. He hadn’t truly thought about the circumstances behind Ozai’s rise to power for… a very long time.

Then when he _had_ thought about it- it all seemed to come together to form a picture he didn’t really want to see.

By the time he’d realized that the rumblings had died down. If he’d tried right at first to take his throne he likely would have been able to with minimal effort. Now it would require something more drastic.

“We need allies among the other nations,” Iroh said slowly, “We need people who are willing to vouch for the fact that we are truly interested in peace.”

Zuko nodded slowly. “How’re we going to convince father to make peace though?”

And this was for the delicate part. “Ozai doesn’t want peace.” Iroh said. That came out far blunter than he’d intended…

Zuko looked like he was going to protest, then he swallowed his protests back. Iroh let out a pained smile. “He wants the world.” Iroh said, “And he’s been sacrificing lives on every side to get it.”

Zuko’s face was pale but he wasn’t arguing. That didn’t mean he agreed. “Have you ever seen anything that would lead you to believe that he might consider making peace?” Iroh asked.

He’d intended this conversation to be a continuation of their other, with Iroh being delicate, leading, but never bluntly forcing Zuko to see. The words he was saying were true though, and they had not wanted to be contained.

Zuko swallowed. He closed his eyes, clenched his hands into fists. The anger drained from him a moment later as he slumped, shaking his head. “No.” he whispered. “No.”

Iroh sighed softly. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Zuko, but sometimes the truth hurt. And the truth was that his father was a monster.

“I have some allies,” Iroh said, “They could help.”

Zuko simply looked at him. Iroh let his lips quirk up into a small smile. “The Avatar would also be a very useful ally. And I happen to know someone in the North Pole who owes me a favor.”

Pakku would not be happy about this. Well. He would also be _very_ happy that Iroh was finally going to agree to his mostly mad idea…

“Once we have our allies, I will return to the Fire Nation and challenge Ozai to an Agni Kai.”

Zuko’s head snapped up at that, eyes widening as a hand flew up to his face. Iroh held the anger that gesture created back with an effort. “Would you- would you win?” Zuko asked.

Iroh thought of lightning- going through him rather than into him. Him being a channel. He would need to test that… then again. If he was dead he was dead, no matter whose lightning was killing him.

“Yes.” Iroh said, “I believe I would. First though, I have a contact in the North Pole. We can help the Avatar get there, or we can go alone, but we will need to meet up with him. If we are going with the Avatar we should meet him first. If not, we need to go to the Earth Kingdom. I have contacts there as well.”

The tricky part would be when they stopped meeting people, stopped planning, and came out into the open to stop Ozai. The tricky part indeed.

…---…

Azula was hunting her brother and Uncle. They’d switched ships and… disappeared. They were now known as enemies- traitors. It was odd- she’d never thought Zuko would be disloyal. Stupid, yes. But never disloyal. His face alone was proof enough of that.

Azula watched the waves. Perhaps it was Uncle’s fault- it would make sense for him to be the mastermind. Still- it wasn’t as though it _really_ mattered.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Honor Among Thieves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344355) by [cassiopeia721](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeia721/pseuds/cassiopeia721)




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